A Moment of
by Amiable Loner
Summary: Short, complete snapshots of the Lord of the Rings characters from various points in their lives, in no particular order. Focusing on various emotions and virtues of the characters. Third Chapter: Pride. Thranduil's thoughts as he observes his son.
1. Doubt

Disclaimer: I do not own the _Lord of the Rings._

Character(s): Sam

Summary: Sam had never doubted or feared Frodo, but at the Cracks of Doom, he may have to begin to…

Sam had never doubted his master. Everything that Frodo did or said was just and right in the gardener's eyes. He did not always agree with what his master

decided, such as keeping Gollum with them, but he always followed. In Sam's eyes, there was no better person, be they Man, Hobbit, Elf, Dwarf, or Wizard, than

his beloved master.

But looking at Frodo now, hesitating to throw the cursed Ring into the fires of Mount Doom, he couldn't stop the shred of doubt from creeping into his heart.

He had always believed Frodo would resist the Ring's temptations to the end. He knew from first-hand experience how tempting Its murmurings were, but Frodo

was stronger than that, Frodo was stronger than him and even he had resisted It.

Sam had never doubted his master, nor had he ever feared him.

"The Ring is mine!"

But looking at Frodo now, with that crazed light in his eyes and wicked smile, Sam truly and deeply doubted and feared his master.

Then something struck him sharply in the back of the head and he fell senseless to the ground.


	2. Vengeance

Character(s): Elladan and Elrohir

Summary: The sons of Elrond had sworn to eliminate any and all orcs that crossed their paths after their mother was wounded by them. Vengeance is a difficult burden.

Silver swords flashed in the pale morning light, making graceful and deceptively beautiful arcs through the crisp air as they ended the lives of several more

orcs. The twin sons of Elrond, their faces splattered with the gore of battle, laughed at the fear in the eyes of their prey. They laughed as gleefully as little

children at play as they slaughtered the fell monsters. The orcs fought desperately, knowing they were losing and yet unwilling to relinquish their miserable

existence to the cold embrace of death, making them all the more dangerous.

The brothers relished these sorts of battles.

They traveled alone, having long ago wearied their fellows in their lust for revenge. Though they were wise enough to avoid foolish confrontation, Elladan and

Elrohir could not resist engaging small bands of orcs in retribution for the suffering their mother endured. The orcs were the hunters of all good beings; the

brothers were the hunters of the hunters. Every orc that lived within their hunting grounds feared the identical elves.

Their quest for revenge worked in cycles. While not hunting and living their lives in Imladris, a shadow tormented them in the deepest part of their hearts.

This would then consume them and drive them to hunt. They were relentless in their hunting, tracking the dark beasts for weeks in the need arose. Upon finding

any sign of orcs, an incomprehensible wrath would burn their hearts until they at last engaged their quarry. Not once did their rage outweigh their reason in

battle, they knew they could not seek vengeance if they were slain, so they were careful not to lose themselves. Then would come the glorious feeling of battle,

the invincibility of their teamwork and the fear of their foes were like heady wine. They could not be defeated for defeat was not an option to them.

They fought back to back, guarding each other as they slew every last orc. They were a beautiful yet fell sight to behold, covered in the blood of their

enemies, fair faces twisted in rage beyond the comprehension of mortals. As they fought, their wrath was mixed with joy, joy in the knowledge that these

creatures would never again harm another living being, and joy in the knowledge that they were avenging the wrong done to their family. They never wearied of

battle, for that was what they truly lived for.

But when the last orc lay dead and the fires of their wrath quenched for a time, Elladan and Elrohir did not rejoice in the destruction of their enemies. With

each victory came the bitter knowledge that there were still thousands of the despicable creatures roaming the land and that their mother would never return to

these shores. They would return to peaceful Imladris with hearts heavy with the knowledge that they would find no true peace or rest while the minions of the

Dark Lord still lived.

Vengeance was a heavy, heavy burden to bear.


	3. Pride

Character(s): Thranduil

Summary: Thranduil's thoughts on his son.

Thranduil gazed proudly upon the returning hunting party, on one in particular. The elves of Mirkwood were forced to coexist, if it could be called that, with the vile monsters that invaded their home. As the Shadow deepened, all they could hold was the very northern parts of the forest, the road, and the elf-path. Regular hunting parties had to be sent out to eliminate immediate spider and orc threats to the people. One such party was now returning with his son in the lead.

Legolas proudly strode into his home, supporting a wounded comrade. Even if the hunt did not go as successfully as hoped, Legolas still walked proudly through those gates knowing he had done the best he could for his people.

And they all loved him for it.

Thranduil loved him for it. He was so proud of his son, even if he did not show it. His beloved Greenleaf always brought joy and pride to his aching heart. Thranduil was proud of everything his son was and did. He was a skilled and passionate captain, a deadly archer, a compassionate and joyful being, an elf who could lose himself in the beauty of the world and banish shadows with his songs and laughter.

Thranduil knew Legolas' faults as he knew his own, but they did not diminish the pride he felt when he laid eyes upon his son. The younger elf's determination in overcoming those faults was yet one more point of pride for Thranduil.

Legolas now gazed sadly at his lord and father, kneeling respectfully and announcing that they had not entirely been successful and asking forgiveness for his failure. Thranduil accepted and waved away the apology. It did not matter that Legolas and his fellows had not succeeded.

He was still so proud of him.


End file.
